


Made of Iron

by Achrya



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:52:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5284466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Achrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short bits to deal with my Rhodey and Sam feelings. (Rhodey/Tony unless mentioned otherwise, SamSteve and sometimes Bucky) </p><p>1. Tony sits next to Rhodey’s hospital bed, smoothing down a wrinkle in the sheets that only he can see<br/>2. Tony sniffed. “It wasn’t a fair fight. He’s got the one armed wonder and your new best friend Falcon backing him up.”<br/>3. Stairs exist<br/>4. What is up with Sam and Steve's matching outfits anyway?<br/>5. Domestic Bliss<br/>6. A cookout (SamBuckySteve and RhodeyPepperTony)<br/>7. This is probably how Sam is going to die (S/B/S)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Made of Iron

“Stark,” Natasha says, leaning against the door frame. “I’ve got a lead on Steve.” 

Tony sits next to Rhodey’s hospital bed, smoothing down a wrinkle in the sheets that only he can see, and says nothing. He wishes something was out of place in the room, that he had something to pick at, to bitch and shout over, but everything was as perfect as it could possibly be. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing there. He should have been out in the armor tracking down Cap and his little crew or courting more superhumans to register in compliance with the Accords. Having him as a poster child had done wonders for the Accords from a PR perspective and having every news channel there was replaying Wanda hitting Rhodey hard enough to reduce the chest plate of the War Machine armor to sparking wires and crushed metal seemed to be helping as well. 

He hadn’t known what had happened at first. One minute he’d had Rhodey in his ear, listing all the things he’d rather be doing at the moment and reminding Tony that he owed him for this and he’d better appreciate it and the next there had been a shout and alarms blaring ‘critical failure’ warnings for the other suit. 

After that the world had gone too slow and too fast all at once. He’d abandoned his fight with Cap and the Winter Solider, blasted out of the building to the nearby field. He remembered Wanda, a pale shaking mess, babbling about how she hadn’t meant to, forgive her, the power was just too much sometimes, had she-

And Rhodey. Silent. Still. Broken. 

He doesn’t remember getting back to the facility or getting Rhodey out of the armor and into the hands of the waiting medical staff. He didn’t remember trailing the gurney until he hadn’t been allowed to go any further and Pepper had appeared, a gentle hand on his arm to guide him away. 

Be prepared for the worst is what they were saying. Extensive internal bleeding, shattered bones, multiple organ failure. It was like he’d been hit with a tiny nuke right in the chest and, frankly, it was amazing how much of the force the suit had absorbed. 

Tony didn’t brag for a change, too tired to tell them that he’d spent weeks making sure Rhodey’s armor could withstand anything he’d thought to throw at it. It was no Hulkbuster armor but it was the next best thing without being a tank and he’d made sure of that. 

He’d wanted Rhodey to be safe but hadn’t wanted to say it out loud. The armor was the next best thing.

He never thought to push Wanda to her emotional limits and then let her loose. 

He’d watched the footage from the fight endlessly, until finally Pepper had turned off all the TVs and taken all of his electronics. He wondered where the footage had come from. Wondered what Rhodey would think of the image of Wanda, tiny wide eyed Wanda, bringing him down plastered all over the news with scrolling news tickers procliaming ‘Captain America Gone Rogue, working with known Sokovian terrorist to bring down Military Hero.’  

There were nice character pieces about Rhodey floating around. Someone even got the president to give a statement about how losing Rhodey would be a blow not just to the country but the world because somethingsomething good man and it was like he was already dead. 

Zemo sent an email informing him recruitment was going very well and public sentiment against Cap was at an all time low. There was almost something about condolences but Pepper had snatched the phone he’d liberated from one of the nurse’s pockets and yelled at him before he’d been able to process it. 

Natasha was there, in and out, frowning intently at the machines breathing for Rhodey. He wanted to asked her if he’d done the wrong thing again. Had he gone wrong in backing the Accords? Was it Ultron all over again? Another try at helping the world, at protecting people, gone too far? 

It shouldn’t have been like this. He hadn’t…seen any of it coming. Cap pushing back so hard, gathering so many people around him who’d been willing to fight back with all they had in the name of Captain Fucking America. 

Were willing to protect a killer. Brainwashing or not, there were crimes to answer for and victims who needed justice but Cap wasn’t going to let that happen. 

And no, the Accords weren’t perfect but it was better. Better than just doing what they wanted, better than having all that power and using it as they saw fit, better than using a ‘magic scepter’ to privately build a genocidal robot without any oversight. 

He was trying to fix what he had done, clean up his mess. 

He hadn’t thought it would come with losing so much.  

He was turning out to be a terrible futurist. 

Rhodey had been there before anyone else. Before the team, before Bruce, before Pepper, before fucking Ironman there had been James Rhodes and Tony wasn’t sure he was all that interested in a world where Rhodey wasn’t at his side, didn’t have his back, was smirking behind his hand while Tony annoyed everyone around them. 

And now this. He’d had his back, in spite of his reservations about the Accords. Tony had pushed and cajoled like he always did and Rhodey had huffed and sighed then put his faith in Tony, because that’s what he always did no matter how many times he fucked up or pushed people away. 

He didn’t deserve that and he knew it and maybe Rhodey had been right when he accused Tony of taking him for granted, of lacking respect, because now he was sitting there, picking at imaginary lint, wondering how the hell he was supposed to leave the chair and get back to work when he no longer thinks the cost is worth it. 


	2. Bad Behavior

Rhodey didn’t even glance up when Tony lands at the disassembly platform outside the penthouse. He did lean over to cut the video feed from the Ironman armor once Tony was free from the dented sparking mess before turning off the mini-welder. 

Tony more fell into the penthouse than walked, though Rhodey noted he made it most of the way to the small lab/office before giving up and deciding the floor was a great place to be. He doesn’t need to look up from the repairs he was making to War Machine to know that Tony was wearing his most pathetic face, probably pouting around his split lip and trying to make sure the more bruised and battered part of his face was turned towards him.

He knew what a beat up Tony Stark looks like and he knew how a beat up Tony Stark acted (like an angry cat who is offended by the very notion that someone would dare take issue with what an asshole he’s been.) 

Finally Tony sighed loudly. “Sugarbear-”

“Don’t.” 

“But I’m hurt. I might be dying. I could be bleeding internally while you’re over there ignoring me and…where did you get that arc reactor?”

He’d taken it from the Hulkbuster armor but it was probably better to not get into that. Tony was kind enough to keep his mouth shut about War Machine, willing to admit that maybe Rhodey had also graduated from MIT and was an impressive engineer in his own right (though no, he wasn’t going to be revolutionizing energy anytime soon but he also didn’t build genocidal robots so it balanced out.), but touching one of the Ironman armors was just asking for a fight. 

Tony was clearly not up to anymore fights.

“I told you to wait. ‘Don’t do it Tone, we can have the armor fixed in 4 hours if we work on it together’. ‘Don’t fly off the handle, I’m not that hurt, Barnes only tore out the reactor.’ ‘Don’t take on Rogers and his merry band all alone Tony, for the love of god.’” 

“I don’t remember any of that.” 

Rhodey rolled his eyes heavenward, silently asking whatever god might have been listening out there for strength. “Maybe Cap’s shield knocked the memory out of you.” 

Tony sniffed. “It wasn’t a fair fight. He’s got the one armed wonder and your new best friend Falcon backing him up.” 

No one did petulant quite like Tony did. Rhodey pulled off his gloves, and pushed up the goggles he was wearing to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“You would have had backup if you’d waited.” 

Yes, they would have had to track down Rogers and the others again but they had to do that anyway. They could have avoided the damage to the Ironman armor at the very least and Rhodey wouldn’t have had to be carried back by Vision and listen to a very dry play by play of Tony’s fight on the trip. 

“But,” Tony must have finally gotten his sorry ass off the floor because suddenly he was plastered against Rhodey’s back, arms draped over his shoulders. “They hurt you.”

“I’m fine.” There had been a little feedback from having the power source yanked out like it was and he’d been flat on his behind for a little bit but it hadn’t been that bad. “I was fine then.” 

“Principal of the matter.” Tony muttered into his neck. “I’m pretty sure Barnes was just trying to fuck with me.” 

Rhodey refrained from pointing out that maybe, just maybe, the fact Tony was trying to drag Barnes in had something to do with that. He also didn’t point out that, actually, taking him out had made total sense because it had left Tony isolated and angry. 

Instead he turned so he could look at the other man, cringing at the darkened swollen eye, the dried blood on his forehead, and bruises blooming from his cheekbone down his neck and under his shirt. 

He didn’t say anything about ‘this is why we wear helmets’ either. 

He should have been nominated for sainthood.

“You look terrible.” 

“I got my ass kicked.” 

“By someone who used to be your friend.”

Tony scowled. “You heard that?” 

“Vision kept me informed.”

“I thought maybe he’d feel bad enough to stop hitting me.” Tony slumped against him. “Which he didn’t. Cap’s a dick.”

“Uh hu.”

“Take a shower with me. I don’t think I can lift my arms up.” 

Rhodey squinted at the arms that were once again around his neck. “You can’t use this to get laid.”

He really couldn’t reward stupidity. 

More than he already did in day to day life. 

And he needed to finish the wiring in his chest piece. Indulging Tony would basically be giving up for the day. 

Tony groaned. “Well, what’s the point of defending your honor then?” 

"I told you not to do that." 

Another annoyed groan and Tony, somehow, gets even closer, sliding between his legs. Rhodey can feel his pout against his skin and each puff of warm air as he breathes. "C'mon sour patch." 

Rhodey leans back so he can look into tired brown eyes only to have Tony avoid his gaze. "Next time you wait. You don't get to get hurt in my name."  Tony opens his mouth like he's going to protest. "No. I'm with you, we're doing this, I'm backing your plays, and I'm taking that risk. That's on me. Respect that." 

His hand touched the back of the other man's head, buried into dark hair. Tony was stiff for a moment and then, with a put upon sigh, stood up straight. "Fine." 

"Fine?" He arches an eyebrow skeptically. 

"Yeah yeah. Next time we get beat up together." 

"That's all I ask." He slides off of his stool. "Let me patch up your face." 

"And then sex. Just in case I'm dying, so I can...you know. Go out on top. Literally or figuratively, I'm not feeling picky." 

Rhodey snorted.


	3. Stairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I envision Civil War as a bunch of conversations between Sam and Rhodey about how stupid their boyfriends are.

“It’s not that I don’t respect you and the Captain’s right to not sign the accords.” Rhodey insisted as he strode past all the nervous and scrambling agents. What looked like the entire employment roster for every alphabet agency was rushing around frantically, running into each other and all but tearing out their hair. 

“I’m glad to hear that.” Sam sounded breathless on the other end of the line. 

“And hey, the wings and shield? Belong to you two so if you don’t want to give them up more power to you.” 

Sam made a noise of agreement. 

“And I’m not saying this is a great idea or that Tony has thought it all the way out, not that he ever does.” This was met with a choked off laugh. “But the window? There are stairs, you know?”

“Steve likes to make a flashy exit after he goes all ‘I’m a figure for the freedom and rights of the people.’” Sam said it like it was completely reasonable for Steve to have given a very rousing speech about why he couldn’t abide by the accords and then snatched his shield before taking a flying leap through a window. 

Rhodey could hear Steve’s protest, something about ‘They were going to arrest us’ but it sounded so much like whining that he had a hard time taking it seriously. 

“It was a fantastic speech Steve.” Sam said soothingly then cursed. “We should go. People are shooting at us. Again.” 

“That’s what happens when you don’t take the stairs.” 

And then Sam was gone and Rhodey was pushing into the conference room where Tony and Natasha were. Tony was sitting, a put out expression on his face, and Natasha was standing in front of the shattered window, staring off into the distance. Tony looked up when he walked in then stood, hand going up.

“Rhodey-”

“What the hell Tony?” 

“This is not my fault.” 

“It’s kind of your fault.” Natasha said.


	4. Casual Squad

Rhodey waited for Rogers, who was clearly in what he thought was stealth mode, to leave the shop before getting up. He slid into the spot the younger man had vacated, nodding at Sam then stopped, lips twitching with barely contained laughter as something sunk in. Sam frowned at him over the rim of his mug.

“What?”

“Nothing! Not a thing.” Sam didn’t look convinced and, after a few seconds of intent staring, Rhodey made a vague gesture towards him. “Just. Is this a thing? Dressing alike?” 

“What?” 

“You and Rogers. Every times I see you it looks like you’re wearing each other’s clothes.” 

Which was certainly possible considering that Rogers seemed to like getting his shirts two sizes too small. 

Sam looked down at himself then crossed his arms over his chest, leather jacket creaking. “Shut up.” 

 


	5. Domestic Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was domestic bliss for Tony and Rhodey.

Things are almost suspiciously quiet. Rhodey has some leave, Tony shifts meetings around and pushes deadlines back to match, and no one is trying to blow up the world. They go to Philadelphia to see Rhodey’s parents and niece; last time they were done, which feels like it was years ago, they’d promised to help fix up the back shed for Lilah to be able to tinker around in so that’s what they do. 

Of course to him ‘fix up’ means total renovation complete with tools a twelve year old probably should have access to but Lilah is exceptional by all standards and with a little cajoling Mrs. Rhodes gives permission for most of the stuff but draws the line at propane tanks and welders. She okays a microtorch and Tony is willing to concede that it’s probably good enough.

For now anyway. They’ll revisit it on her next birthday. 

They don’t knock down the shed and start from scratch like he wants but they extend the thing a bit and Lilah pops in and out, practically vibrating with excitement whenever she has time to help between school and other things. They go slower than they need to when she’s busy and maybe it’s to let her help more and maybe it’s to stretch out their time there. 

It’s late on Friday and Lilah is back inside the house, leaving the two of them in the shed. They were supposed to be putting up shelving and a pegboard but instead Tony has Rhodey backed up onto the worktable and has fitted himself between strong thighs. He’s working at the button of Rhodey’s pants and laughter rumbles in his ear before hands settle on his shoulders. 

“We are not defiling my niece’s table.”  He’s trying to be firm but laughter coats his words, making them warm and slow, somehow a perfect match to the quiet stillness of the shed, and Tony figures he’s already won. He knows serious protest Rhodey from obligatory protest Rhodey pretty well at his point. 

“I’ll buy a new table.” Hell, he’ll buy her a table for every day of the year if that’s what Rhodey wants.

“Tony.”  

He looks up into dark brown eyes, catches a wan smile, and arches an eyebrow back. Rhodey looks away, focusing on the closed door then rolls his eyes. That’s as good as a go ahead so Tony surges in to press a kiss to Rhodey’s mouth and tugs on his jeans. He feels the smile against his lips and and catches the other man’s amused sigh as hips lift up to help him out. 

He ends up on his knees with fingers carding through his hair and Rhodey in his mouth. It’s familiar, that taste and the feel across his tongue, and he knows what each muffled sigh and bitten off groan means. Knows when to draw back and drag his tongue along slowly and when to take Rhodey in deep and hold still as hips stutter up. 

He works a finger into the other man, delighting in the breathless cursing and the way fingers tighten in his hair. He thinks about drawing it out, about climbing back up Rhodey’s body and fucking into him slowly, but it’s just as tempting to open up a little wider and accept the wet slide of Rhodey’s cock in his mouth. 

He shifts his gaze up, takes in half lidded eyes and even white teeth pressing into a full bottom lip. It’s a sight that makes him want to say the kind of sappy things Rhodey hates, or at least claimed to think were overdone, and it was hard to think of something he liked more than watching his lover slowly come apart. He crocks his fingers, twisting a little. Rhodey’s head tips back and he rocks forward, pressing in deeper. 

When Rhodey comes it’s with a hiss and a curling of fingers around the back of his neck. He rocks back on his heels after, dragging his tongue over the bitterness lingering on his lips, and lets himself be dragged up into a wet press of lips and teeth. 

 


	6. Frosting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a tumblr thing that I felt did Sam wrong. It...spiraled.

Sam walked into the kitchen, arms loaded down with groceries. He’d let Steve talk him into this stupid cookout, like they weren’t actively running for their lives these days, and then he’d let himself be roped into being the one to go to the store. 

He was easily swayed by blowjobs. 

It was starting to become a problem because Steve was actually shameless and had no trouble playing him. 

They were fantastic blowjobs, in his defense. 

Like. Amazing. The serum was basically god’s gift to Sam’s sex life what with the way Steve jaw never seemed to get tired. 

Speaking of. 

He sighed loudly at the sight of Steve, in only his stupid apron that he’d been obsessed with all week, straddling a slightly bewildered looking Bucky and holding a can of frosting in his hand. Bucky looked up at him, eyes wide as if to say “Please do something with him. Save me.” 

“I thought that was for the cake.”

“You know, as it turns out, I can’t actually bake. So I figured I’d just put it to good use rather than let it sit around.” Steve said it like it was perfectly reasonable but Bucky was frantically shaking his head, making it clear he disagreed with the entire premise. 

Sam considered the both of them very carefully before coming to the only logical conlusion. 

“I guess I’ll volunteer as frosting tribute.” 

Steve squinted thoughtfully then slide off of Bucky’s lap. “Accepted.” 

Bucky sagged in relief then, watching Steve stalk closer to Sam,cleared his throat loudly. “I’m on board as long as I’m not the one being frosted.” 

“Nope.” Steve waved the can at him. “You have to sit and watch.” 

“Well that sounds awful.” Sam deadpanned. 

“Terrible.” Bucky agreed dryly. 

\----

“Did you know that Sam and Steve had a cookout?” Tony asked, tone slightly accusing. Rhodey, shirtless and sipping a cup of coffee, didn’t even bother looking up from the papers he was looking over. Something about a new aircraft the military wanted his input on before moving to the building and testing phase. 

Maybe. 

He’d only gotten a chance to skim it before he’d been dumped from the other man’s lap with a quiet ‘classified.’ 

Pepper, who was leaning against the table in nothing but one of Rhodey’s t-shirts (They were both wearing Tony’s favorite looks on them, actually. Well favorite beyond nudity), was kinder to him. 

“How do you know about that?”

Assuming kinder meant talked to him sharply while making her ‘What have I told you about spying on people’ face. He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I have people.” 

Rhodey’s eyebrows went up even though his gaze didn’t. “You have us. And Happy.” 

“Rude. I have…fine.” Tony flicked at an invisible fleck of dust on the table top. “Thor was by to apologize for being so busy with his little Ragnarok, burning the world tree, giant serpents and wolves road trip and mentioned it. He wanted me to tell Steve he was sorry.” 

Pepper made a face. “Has no one told Thor what’s going on?” 

Tony shrugged. “I was going to but I didn’t want to deal with his disappointed dad face.”  

Rhodey snorted softly. Pepper shook her head then reached out for Rhodey’s mug. Tony pushed it closer to her, getting an appreciate smile in return. He let his attention turn to her legs and was once again idly counting the freckles when one of his many trains of thoughts crashed into another. 

“You knew. Pep, Pepper, light of my life, power to my suit, how could you?” 

Rhodey’s eyes slid over to Pepper. Tony gasped. 

“Cinnamon heart, not you too?”

Pepper peered down into the mug. “We were invited.”

Rhodey nodded solomnly. “Sam and Steve still like us.” 

“Traitors!” Tony stared at the two of them, incredulous. “And I apologized!”

“You teamed up with people trying to have their boyfriend executed.” Pepper was making her ‘You’re an idiot’ face. Tony knew that one well. 

“Honest mistake. I sent a gift basket.” 

Rhodey sighed loudly. 

“It had keys to new motorcycles in it!” Neither looked impressed. Tony had never been so betrayed. “Did you at least bring me something?”

“Mrs. Wilson made peach cobbler.” Pepper offered. “There was cake but it didn’t have any frosting.” 

“Oh,” Tony muttered. “They have icingless cake but I’m the jerk.” 


	7. Recovery Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a tumblr comic where Steve and Bucky are having loud sex while Sam sits on the couch and tries to deal. My thought was A. Steve and Bucky aren't the kind of tools who'd pull that shit and B. Duh, Sam would get some too. Psh.

Sam sighed loudly then twisted around to glare in the direction of the bedroom. They were ridiculous, like teenage boys but worse. Sex when they woke up, groping and blow jobs on the couch, stealth attacks in the shower…

It was a lack of respect, really.

“You know,” He didn’t bother getting too loud, knowing they’d hear. “Some of us actually have recovery times. I’m pretty sure you’re just taunting me at this point.”

And abrupt silence followed and then the door creaked open to reveal two naked and sheepish looking super soldiers. He eyeballed them skeptically; they did contrite about as well as Stark did subtle.

They were up to something.

“Don’t.” He didn’t know what he was warning them against but he had a pretty good idea.

They exchanged sidelong looks then, moving as one, pounced. He swore and tried to move out of the way but it wasn’t a fair fight.

And he wasn’t trying that hard.

He ended up straddling Bucky with the cool metal hand around his dick (it was alarming how good it felt every time.) and Steve kneeling on the floor behind him, all fingers, tongue, and teasing stubble.

Bucky hummed against his neck. “Your recovery time seems fine.”

“This is how I’m going to die.” Sam said, breathless. “And you two assholes are going to have to explain death by too much super powered sex to my mother.”


End file.
